


Pizza Time for Two

by thecomebackkids99



Series: Olicity Short Stories Series [10]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 5x20, F/M, Fluff, Pizza, Post-episode fic, They're staring into each other's eyes in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 17:26:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10858653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecomebackkids99/pseuds/thecomebackkids99
Summary: Post 5x20 fic that includes pizza, Felicity blabbering, and Oliver grinning like an idiot.





	Pizza Time for Two

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it!!!! :)

He didn’t like hospital rooms. Hated them, actually. They brought back painful memories, and though there a few good ones, he wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. But according to the doctor, it would be another twelve hours. Which he couldn’t afford. He glanced around the room, eying the equipment. He could get out of here. Question was how far he’d make it.

“Uh-uh, mister.”

He caught Felicity’s gaze when she stepped into the room, carrying a big bag. “What?”

“I know that look. Way too well. It’s your I’m-considering-injurying-myself-even-more-by-getting-out-of-here look. And it’s almost sad that I know what that look looks like.”

No use arguing that one. He chuckled and gestured to the bag. “What's in there?”

“Food.”

“Food?”

“Yep. The stuff that you put in your mouth and it goes into your intestines and―”

“Felicity, I failed every other class but health.”

“Clearly.” She closed her eyes and grimaced. “Yikes. You can put that on my top ten list of terrible things I’ve said.”

“Who said I was keeping count?” When she shot him a glare, he reached for the bag, wincing when the movement pulled at the stitches in his back. “Ow.”

“That should tell you that you need to stay in bed until you’re discharged. In the meantime, I brought pizza.” She pulled out two boxes and set them on his lap. Oliver laughed and opened the top one. “You got my favorite kind.”

“Pepperoni with jalapenos. I know what you like.” She winked at him as she pulled a chair up to the bed. “And I got my favorite kind for myself but I’ll eat yours too if you make fun of me.”

“You only eat cheese pizza. Plus, you hate anything hot.”

“Except for you. Oh, _dear God_!”

Oliver choked on his first bite of pizza, turning away to spit it out before he suffocated. Laughing hurt, but he couldn’t stop himself, especially when he looked at Felicity. She had her head down on the bed, shoulders shaking. _Oh, Felicity._ He tapped her hand, chuckling when she grumbled, “Just let me die of embarrassment.”

“Good news is that you can put that on your top ten list.”

“Shut up.” She sat up and groaned. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be loopy. Not me.”

“How about we just enjoy our pizza?”

“That might be a good idea. And you talk. I’m not doing a good job so far. All I’ve done is make your injury more painful. I needed to be hauled around in the lair, and then I slipped, and you had to drag me up with _one hand_ ―”

“Felicity.” He stopped her ramble by grabbing her hand. She stilled, her eyes flitting from their intertwined fingers to his face. He smiled. “You’ve carried me around for the past five years, and hauled me up countless times, even when I wanted you to let me go.” She let out a laugh when he tapped her hand for emphasis. “You deserved a day off, but you still ended up keeping me alive.” She met his gaze, and when a smile brightened her face, his heart fluttered. Because deep down Oliver Queen was a sappy man, and he’d fallen in love with the woman who brought that to the surface.

Maybe Felicity was right. Maybe he’d admitted to liking killing because of the torture. Maybe she wasn’t right, and he did enjoy the killing.

But one thing was clear:  

He loved Felicity Smoak.

She tipped her head to one side. “Hey, Oliver?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I have a piece of your pizza?”

“I thought you didn’t like anything hot. Except for me.” He raised one eyebrow at her.

She wrinkled her nose. “Wow, Oliver on painkillers is interesting. And, no, I don’t like anything hot but I’m going to try it. Can you give me a piece? You can have some of mine.”

He handed her a slice and bit his lip while he watched her take a bite. Her eyes welled up, and after three bites, a tear slipped down her cheek. After twenty seconds, she tossed the half-eaten slice back into the box.

“Oh, dear _God_ , help.” She opened her mouth wide and waved her hand, eyes red. “That’s so hot! How can you like anything like that? That’s terrible!”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Of course it doesn’t. You’re…you. The Green Arrow. Mr. Tough Guy. But I’m not, so I need water. Which of course isn’t in here.” She pushed her chair back and stood up, still waving her hand. “I’ll be right back. Once I douse my mouth in milk.”

Oliver laughed and gestured to the door. “I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
